


you keep me focused

by orphan_account



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Derek is Dumb, Experienced Stiles Stilinski, M/M, Rim Job (mentioned), not explicitly said tho, sort of, this is dumb as fuk sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-21
Updated: 2015-03-21
Packaged: 2018-03-18 20:05:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3582189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>oops I wrote porn ¯\_(ツ)_/¯  </p><p>---</p><p>Stiles can't focus. Derek helps him out by helping himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	you keep me focused

Derek's not sure why Stiles is in his loft. But there he was, sprawled out on his couch, surrounded by textbooks. 

"What are you doing?" Derek asked, eyebrow raised. He shut the door and tossed his keys on the counter.

Stiles sat up and peered at him from over the side of the couch, hair messy and disheveled. He held up his glowing laptop and sighed.

"Our internet isn't working and Scott's mom won't let me use hers. And Lydia and Allison are out doing something normal, which they didn't invite me to and I'm totally not bitter about it. So I'm using your internet. I have an essay to write and I needed to research stuff," he explained in one breath, frowning deeply. Derek pulled his jacket off and tossed it on the counter. 

"Oh. That's cool I guess. Not like you'll leave if I tell you to. What's it about?" he asked nonchalantly, pulling a bottle of water out of the fridge. Stiles groaned and Derek heard him mashing what must be the backspace key.

"I literally could not even begin to explain. It's for English though," he said. Derek cringed at the mention of English, briefly thinking about Jennifer and the hospital and her scarred face.

He wandered into the living room and plopped down beside Stiles with a sigh. A feeling of content washed over him as he listened to Stiles type.

"What?" Stiles asked, eyes glancing over at him. Derek shrugged.

"I don't know. It always kind of calms me down whenever I see you guys doing school stuff. Normal stuff," he mumbled, eyes closing in relaxation. Stiles made a small noise in response and went back to typing. 

A few moments of odd silence passed until Stiles made a noise of frustration and stopped typing. Derek opened his eyes and looked at him.

"You okay?" he asked, voice passive. 

"I can't fucking focus," Stiles answered and rubbed his eyes. 

Derek observed him. He was empty handed. No highlighter in his mouth but his lips were bright red from chewing on them.

"I forgot all my highlighters and pencils and usually I'd resort to using my fingers but I kind of need them at the moment. I just need something in my mouth," Stiles huffed, and gestured at his mouth. His very obscenely pretty mouth.

That sentence replayed itself in Derek's mind over and over again. He thought about it in different tones. Stiles on his knees and needy. 

Derek cleared his throat and shifted around uncomfortably.

"I don't really have-"

"Do me a favor and put your fingers in my mouth please," Stiles quickly said, eyes still on the computer screen. 

Derek gaped at him and Stiles looked over at him expectantly. He dropped his mouth open, wide and slutty. 

"No-"

"Pleaaaaase, I need to be focused for this, it's like a big part of my grade this semester," Stiles begged.

Derek rolled his eyes and sighed.

Slowly, he lifted two fingers to Stiles' lips. Before he can think, Stiles' mouth is around his fingers, hot and wet. Derek's brain breaks. Stiles gives him a heated look for a split second and then goes back to fucking typing. With Derek's fingers still shoved in his mouth.

Derek swallows thickly as Stiles' tongue curls around his fingers absentmindedly, teeth nibbling on them gently every so often. 

He really can't help getting hard. He has no control whatsoever at this point.

Stiles' eyes flick down at his jeans like he knows. Derek's face goes red and he sheepishly covers his eyes with his free hand.

Stiles slides his plush mouth off of Derek's fingers and smirks at him. Derek hates him. He watches some sort of mischief crawl into the kid's eyes.

"You know, this could be a win win situation. I need something in my mouth, you have something that needs to be dealt with," Stiles whispered, getting into Derek's personal space. Derek's mouth went dry and he swallowed.

"Stiles, we can't," he chokes out, eyes flicking between Stiles' lips and his own crotch. Stiles sets his laptop down and shifts closer to Derek, straddling him. 

"But you want me too," Stiles says, fingertips trailing along Derek's chest. He slowly unbuttons the first few buttons on his henley, laughing breathily as he runs his hands through the hair on Derek's chest.

Derek just swallows again in reply, eyes wide and unblinking. God, where did Stiles pick up all these tricks? Part of him doesn't want to know, makes a sheen of jealousy speckle along his skin like sweat. 

"Hm? I could sit right here and type my paper while I suck you off. Probably get an A on it too," Stiles murmurs thoughtfully, running his fingers through Derek's hair. 

Derek doesn't know if he's talking about getting an A on the paper or the blow job at this point. Probably both knowing Stiles. 

Stiles leans in and presses a kiss to Derek's bearded cheek, trailing light pecks across his face slowly. Kissing his ear and then nipping at it. 

Derek's body feels hot and his skin feels too tight. He should push Stiles off right now, tell him to go write his paper somewhere else. Instead, he yanks Stiles' chin down and kisses him on his open mouth. Hard. Feels like he's let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding when Stiles wraps his arms around his neck.

It's sloppy and wet and he just keeps kissing Stiles breathless, wanting to make him gasp for it. He grips his hips, tugging him close on his lap. Stiles breaks away and takes in gulps of air, swallowing and looking down at Derek through mile-long eyelashes that give Derek hell. 

"Fuck, kiss my neck," Stiles demands in a breath. Derek obliges enthusiastically, diving in to press kisses behind Stiles' ear and down his neck, nipping at his artery to make Stiles jump. 

This time Derek's the one who's chuckling smugly, Stiles' fingers threading in his hair as he moans. The older man pulls back and looks up at Stiles. He cups his cheek and slowly, gently, traces his thumb along his lower lip. Stiles' tongue pokes out and licks it, taking it into his mouth, sweet brown eyes big and pretty.

"You're so fucking gorgeous it hurts," Derek murmurs and pulls his thumb out to stroke over the upturn of his nose and down to the sweep of moles on his jaw. Stiles' ears go pink and he kisses Derek again, quiet and appreciative. Like a sort of silent thank you. 

"I want you to fuck my mouth," Stiles breathes into Derek's mouth, reaching down in between them to unbutton Derek's jeans, palm stroking along his hard on teasingly. Derek lifts his hips into Stiles' touch without realizing it, wanting Stiles any way he can get him. 

"Okay, yea, good plan," Derek replies dumbly, making a choked off noise when Stiles' hand slides down past the waist band of his boxers. Long fingers wrap around his half-hard cock, pulling down the underwear and letting it bob against Derek's stomach.

Stiles whimpers.

"What?" Derek asks, already self conscious. Stiles bites his index finger knuckle and squeezes his eyes shut.

"It's bigger than I imagined. Give me a moment I need to pray," he says, steepling his hands and pressing them to his lips, looking up at the ceiling dramatically. 

Derek goes red. All over. 

"I hate you," Derek mutters and covers his face, somehow being turned on by the whole conversation. Stiles smiles and rolls off of Derek, kneeling beside him on the couch and wrapping his hand around Derek's cock again, a little bit firmer this time. 

Derek fucks up into Stiles' hand almost immediately, too turned on to care anymore. Stiles looks like he's enamored by it, jerks him off a couple times until he's completely hard. His tongue darts out to wet his lips and Derek's eyes slip closed at the feeling of it all.

They jolt open when Stiles' tongue flattens against the flushed head of his cock, fingers lazily jerking him off.

"Shit," Derek grunts and fists his hand in Stiles' hair. Stiles wraps his lips around the head and it's ridiculous how good his mouth feels. Lips full and hot, velvety soft and wet. 

Derek groans as he starts to slowly take more of his length into his mouth, tongue fluttering against the underside of his shaft. Derek bucks his hips involuntarily, cock pushing all the way into Stiles' mouth quickly.

He's about to apologize for it and pull him off his cock but Stiles merely rolls with it and flings a hand out to grope around for his laptop. 

Derek's torn between being amazed by the way Stiles multitasks and feeling utterly stupid because of how amazing his mouth feels wrapped around his cock. He settles for being a bit of both as Stiles lays down on his stomach across the couch, forearms on either side of Derek's dick as he types with his computer on the other side of Derek's thigh, giving mind-blowing head all at the same time. 

Stiles bobs his head quicker, eyes locked on his computer screen as he types. Derek moans and bites the inside of his cheek, hands tugging at Stiles' hair hard. 

"God, your fucking mouth," he hissed. Stiles moans around him, throat fluttering around the head of his cock. Derek already feels like he's going to come and he about loses it when Stiles pulls off all the way, obscene string of spit connecting from his open mouth to Derek's cock. His eyes lock with Derek's and he grins before taking his whole cock into his mouth again, making Derek hiss. 

He looks back at the laptop screen and resumes typing feverishly, jaw relaxed around Derek's dick. 

Derek takes that as his cue to fuck Stiles' face. And he's not going to last. Not with Stiles choking every so often with spit running down his chin. He flings his hand out, grabs Stiles' ass hard. According to the loud, surprised whine, Stiles appreciates that. He pushes back into Derek's hand and gags as Derek's cock brushes the back of his throat. He thinks about fucking Stiles like this on his couch. Thinks about how tight Stiles would be and he pushes himself over the edge.

"Shit, Stiles. I'm - oh fuck," he grunts, hips stuttering as he climaxes. His head spins and his jaw clenches. Stiles doesn't make a move to pull off at all, lets Derek come down his throat like it's no big deal, just keeps on typing.

Derek makes a pained noise as Stiles swallows around him, chest heaving and sweat dotted along his forehead. 

"Fuck," he breathes when Stiles pulls off slowly. He licks his lips and Derek's head one last time, making Derek jolt. 

"Good timing, I just finished," Stiles says hoarsely, saving the document and shutting his laptop lid. Derek's head drops back on the couch and he pants, hand still in Stiles' hair. Stiles sits up and looks at Derek with eager eyes.

"Good?" he asks. God is that even a question? Derek doesn't think he's even conscious right now. 

"So good, ridiculously good. A-plus," he mumbles, hand resting on Stiles' hip. Stiles smiles prettily in reply. Derek can smell how turned on Stiles is and he feels a little guilty for not taking care of him somehow. 

"Just give me like five minutes and I'll take you upstairs and-," he cuts himself off, gazing at Stiles thoughtfully.

"Rim you," he finishes, easily deciding. Stiles' eyes go all lusty and half lidded and it's sexy before he squeezes his eyes shut and puts his hands in prayer position again. 

"I'd like to thank not only God but also Jesus."

"Oh my god, stop that."

\---


End file.
